


We Were Partners

by mishajunkie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: NOTHING INAPPROPRIATE, just fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishajunkie/pseuds/mishajunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ON HOLD UNTIL I REMEMBER WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS. SORRRRRRYYYY.</p><p>Based off a Tumblr post (http://mishajunkie.tumblr.com/post/88563764485/species-demon-bff-gabriel-okk-lover-sam) </p><p>A young demon falls for a young man who goes to war. Years later, she run into him and his sons. What is she to do?</p><p>(part 1)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As a demon, I choose to hide among humans, and the only person whom I told my secret to is my friend, Gabriel. (Who, let’s face it, is not much of a friend.) I went out of my way to avoid drawing too much attention. Attention always causes people to ask questions. Questions are the true evil. I prided myself on my ability to hide and blend in.

Then one day, I met the Winchesters.

We were in a deserted parking lot in Michigan. How I hated Michigan! There was always snow, or worse ice, covering every surface. Even with my enhanced perception, I needed to keep my eyes on the ground, vigilant of black ice. I was walking through the lot, hands in my jacket, dreaming of warm weather, when I heard the click of a gun chamber.

Immediately, I drew my hands out of my pockets and looked up shocked. Before me were three men, one of which was pointing a gun at me…

Though, much to my surprise, this wasn’t the first time I met the gunslinger. I had once knew the oldest, John, when I was still a young demon. I met him right before he went off to war… young and full of hope. He thought his presence in the Marine’s would make a difference! Knowing differently, (it takes more than one soldier to make a difference; I learned that in Hell) I tried my best to talk him out of it. He didn’t want to hear it.

John and I spent almost a three weeks together, and for the first time since I left Hell, I had almost felt human again. That scared me. He was the first human I felt a connection with, a bond you could say. After that feeling started, I couldn’t wait to send him off to die. I thought that maybe it would help quell the burning desire to save him.

Of course he remembered me. He told me he never forgot faces. And I never had a reason to change vessels. I liked mine too much. There were a lot of good memories with this body; and the best ones were done with John.

My Winchester held a gun level to my face. I didn’t dare move. He called me all sorts of vile names; some were dead-on, others not so much. I didn't dare confirm nor deny any of it. Until this point, I went out of my way to avoid violence. I saw no reason to get all bloodied over something petty. I didn’t know what to expect if I was actually shot.

“What are you?” John screamed at me. I think he had been saying it over and over, but I wasn’t listening. His sons seemed surprised to see their dad act with such violence against what looks like an innocent 18 year-old.

“I don’t know what you mean…” I responded, trying to shrink down a little bit. I thought maybe I could throw him off by pretending I didn’t know him. Maybe he’d think he’s been mistaken; maybe he’d take the hateful words back.

My Winchester. A hunter? A maniac?

“Don’t try and fool me, Angel,” he snarled. Then he did something unexpected. He laughed. One of his sons, clad in a rather flattering jacket and jeans, looked at him puzzled. The taller one had his eyes trained on me. “You let me give you a pet name like ‘ _Angel_.’” John shook the gun a little and aimed it a little lower.

Now I could see his eyes, and the pain hidden beneath them.

“You don’t understand,” I said, trying to stay calm.

“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t see how you can be here, with the same exact face, and not be a monster,” he chided. I took a shuttering breathe. A monster?

“I’m not a monster! Please, John, let me expla—“

“No,” was all I he said before he aimed the gun back at my face.

Panicking, I shouted the first time that came to mind.

"I know what happened!"

John relaxed a bit. “What do you mean? What do you know?”

"I know everything…" I lied. He looked at his sons and then back to me.

"Can you help?" he asked.

"Absolutely! I’d do anything to help you, John, you should know that." I could feel the heat rising in my chest. Who would have known this lie would make me ashamed.

He lowered his gun. I don’t know if he did it out of trust or if he finally realized it’s not going to hurt me. He motioned to the others to leave us be. Hesitantly, they started to walk back to the black Impala parked on the street.

"What do you know of Yellow Eyes…. monster," John spat. I was taken aback by the venom in his tone. His eyes were hard. There was now no mistaking the hate in his eyes.

"Not much," I answered, gauging his reaction. "He keeps to himself."

John raised his gun again. “Then, you’re not much help.”

I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable, but I heard a shout.

"Wait!"

I peeked out from my lids, and was surprised to see the taller Winchester standing with his arms stretched out, back to me, blocking me from his father’s gun. I felt instant admiration.

"Sam, this is not your issue," John hissed.

"It is now," Sam answered. _His name is Sam._ “This seems unnecessary.”

"Get out of the way, son."

"No… Sir."

John grunted in frustration. I could hear him putting the weapon away. I let out a breath; I didn’t even realize I was holding it in. John took a few steps and turned back to us.

His eyes found mine, “When I see you again, don’t count on my son’s bleeding heart to save you. A monster is a monster,” John said. He turned and walked further away. That was the moment my heart broke.

Sam turned back to me and gave me a sad smile. My eyes followed him back to the car. Once Sam was seated in the back, our eyes locked and never broke gaze until the Impala squealed out of the area.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off a Tumblr post (http://mishajunkie.tumblr.com/post/88563764485/species-demon-bff-gabriel-okk-lover-sam)
> 
> A young demon falls for a young man who goes to war. Years later, she run into him and his sons. What is she to do?
> 
> (part 2)

I didn’t see the any of the Winchesters for a year. I tried to stay clear of them and their hunter ways. I was still thrown off by what happened to John. The man I came face-to-face with is not the same as **my** John. Even when he came back from war, he was still was the man I cared for. Now, he was a cold-hearted, demon-hating (apparently), hunter. Never once before did I have any reason to think him violent.

_This must be racism_ , I had thought bitterly, as I watched that black Impala drive away. Fueled with anger, I vowed to punch him next time I crossed his path. Seeing how I was a demon and all he had was a gun, I didn’t take his promise to take me out serious.

I moved on. No sense dwelling on it. I planted myself in a nice California high school and graduated (for the eighth time) with the highest honors. It’s hard to fail school when you’ve done it so many times. For college, I picked Stanford. I hadn’t been there yet and the California weather agreed with me. No snow.

Never in a thousand years did I think I’d run into the bright, hazel eyes of Sam Winchester. Literally, run in to him.

I was jogging through campus, trying to keep busy. I took a second to glance down at the ground and before I had a chance to refocus my brain, I ran straight into the 6’4” beefcake. Of course, I kept my balance, but the impact throttled him back a couple feet. (Something I’m sure he wasn’t expecting.)

I halted instantly, remembering John’s final words to me. I nervously looked around us, seeing if I could spot the man in the leather jacket. But he wasn’t there; we were surrounded by groups of students, laughing and playing.

Sam lifted himself off the ground with a grunt and brushed off a little.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I still had time to run; he hadn’t really looked at my face yet. But I was frozen. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. So I just shut it and stared at him. When he finally looked up, he took a step back. 

“It’s you… I mean, uh, hello,” he stammered. His obvious nervousness just tripled my own. I was torn in between being frightened or smitten. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Sam looked around us, appearing to look for others as well, maybe even his dad. 

“Yeah… I guess I could say the same to you!” I replied, taking a small step back. I had suddenly realized how close we were. 

“What brings you to Stanford?”

“School…” I trailed off. I looked down at my Stanford tee shirt, slightly wet from my run. 

“Oh! Of course! I just figured you’d be out… I don’t know.” Sam shuffled his feet. 

“Are you nervous about something?” I asked, clinging to some of my demonic confidence. _Come one, you’re a powerful being who could tear this human’s skin off. There is absolutely no reason to be all giddy and nervous_ , I thought to myself. The thoughts didn’t help. 

Sam coughed in response. “Nervous? No… Startled, maybe?” I just stared at him. What was I suppose to say at this point? _I need to start thinking before I speak._ “Do you want to get coffee?” Sam continued. 

“What? Do I what?” I said, my voice an octave higher. 

15 minutes later, we were seated in a corner of the campus coffee shop. I kept my eyes fixed on the center of table while slowly moving the straw around in my iced coffee. 

“So,” Sam started. I gulped, still not looking up. “I feel like there’s a big story between my father and you.” That got me to glance up. 

“He didn’t tell you anything?” I asked. Was John ashamed?

“He told Dean and I, Dean is my brother by the way… So, he told us to never ask about it again. We honestly didn’t feel compelled to ask. We figured the truth would come out….” he trailed off. 

“Do you want to know?” I flashed him my best smile. I want him to know, I thought. He stared at me, as if to say “bitch please.” I drew in a deep sigh and started. 

“I was eight when I made a deal,” I began. “I didn’t even know what I was doing. My mom had taken me to the park down the street, so I could play with my friends. I was excited because my mom hadn’t been feeling well and I didn’t get to do anything for my birthday. 

“When we got to the park, my friends were playing with the new girl in town. Her name was Carla and she was the prettiest eight year-old any of us knew. She was also the cruelest, especially to me. I don’t know, and still don’t know to this day, why she hated me so much. 

“Needless to say, my day at the park ended with me running into the woods crying. I don’t know how long I stayed hidden, but when I finally emerged, it was dark and my mother was nowhere to be seen. But there was an old lady sitting on a bench nearby. My momma always told me the elders can be trusted, so I went over to her, still letting a few tears roll down my face. 

“The lady took me into a hug and promised to make it better for me. She asked my problems and I told her the only problem I had was Carla. The lady had nodded and asked me what I’d give to have Carla out of my life. I’m not sure what I truly said, but I sure it was something around the lines of “anything”.”

I paused my tale to look up at Sam. He seemed to be engrossed in my story, or engrossed in me, either one was okay by me. 

“The lady kissed both of my cheeks, and told me to sleep. When I woke up, I was lying in the bench, covered with a blanket and the sun was up. I truly thought what had transpired with the old lady was a dream. I didn't even tell anyone. 

“But then Carla was diagnosed with a horrible, incurable disease and died weeks later. I thought it was just a coincident. Who wouldn’t?

“I was certainly proven wrong. On my eighteenth birthday, I started to see things. People’s faces started looking weird, I was smelling sulfur everywhere I went, hearing things…. All I could think was, ‘ _Great, way to go me! Starting adulthood with craziness!_ ’ I hadn't even remembered that fateful day ten years earlier. I didn't even _consider_ it.” I sighed, feeling the weight of my story lift off of my chest. I had only told one other person the truth. 

“Then it started to get scary; I had this intense feeling of dread that I couldn’t shake no matter what I did. Turns out, forgetfulness doesn't get you out of a demon deal. Nothing felt worse than that of Hell Hounds chopping on me. It was over before I truly grasped what was happening.” I shuddered, recalling the memory. 

“Stop,” Sam interrupted. He looked on edge, almost frighten. “You’re dead?” I lifted my eyebrows in response. “How are you even here then?”

“Sam… how many years did you hunt with your dad?”

“A lot…” he said. “All my life.”

“And you’ve never heard a demon’s tale before?” I could have sworn he almost fell of his chair. 

“You’re a _what_?” he choked out. 

“A demon. An entity of hell,” I sighed. 

“But you look so… normal.”

“Well, I do, don’t I? Demons don’t have bodies. Our souls are dragged down to hell, leaving our original bodies on Earth. In order to be corporeal, we need to borrow a human’s body. A shell almost. Some call them vessels.”

“Possession?” That news seemed to bother him a great deal. “You’ve taken over someone’s body? For decades?”

“I know it sounds bad, but it’s really not!” Sam shook his head. “Please Sam, listen to me. Give me a chance. I’m not some horrid monster from story books. I’m nothing like your average demon. I don’t sit around making deals for souls, or trying new ways to destroy humanity. I simply want to live normal. I typically even go out of my way to avoid trouble. I _run_ from it.”

“And the body you’re in?” 

“The young lady I am in… she no longer wished to live. Her name was Emily and she took many pills one night. This very act to me said she wanted to die. So I took over. My presence healed her and I lived her life. Emily is still here,” I said, touching my heart. “But the last 30 years, she has been living at peace.”

“I don’t buy that,” Sam spat. _Why is he so upset over this_?

“Sam, this girl was going to die, as in drop dead, not coming back, kind of dead.”

“You should find another way to be corporeal. Stealing someone’s life is disgusting.” 

I frown at Sam. Why was it that he, a Hunter, had a problem with me saving a life? 

“Would you like me to finish the story? I still haven’t gotten to you father,” Sam relaxed a bit and thought for a second. I was just about to leave when I heard him whisper a ‘yes’.

“I spent a long time in Hell, I’m not as young as I seem. When the powers that be down there thought I had lost all my humanity, they set me free. Free to do what? I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything at that time but fire and torture. 

“Demonhood didn’t come with an instruction manual. Most of what I know of my existence came from trial-and-error and from a good friend. I didn’t know what I suppose to do with myself. So I wandered a while and settled down for a bit a small town in Kansas.”

Sam perked up. “Lawrence?” 

“Yes, Sam, Lawrence,” I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “I got myself a job at the local diner, and just tried to be ordinary. I’d only been out of Hell for a year, and the whole no-soul thing was still raw. One day, a young man came in the diner. I’d seen him walk past a few times; he’d always wave to the patrons inside and carried on. Something about him gave me butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t know that was even possible any longer.”

“Wait, hold on,” Sam chided in. “Am I going to actually want to hear this? I mean, were you and my dad…. Involved?” The innocence of the question pulled a chuckle from me.

“You mean in the Biblical sense?” I asked, hoping we were thinking the same thing. Sam merely nodded. “Yes.” He threw his hands up and made a disgusted noise again. 

“I wasn’t going to go into major details with that, Sam, you can calm down. When the man finally came in that day, he sat down at the counter and ordered a piece of every pie we had.” This earned a hard “ha” from Sam. “I was memorized by the shear fact he ate all of it. Five slices of pie! Gone! When I walked over to collect the plates, he looked me in the eyes and said the cheesiest pickup line I’ve heard to date.”

“Yeah?” Sam leaned further, closing the gap between us a bit more. I hadn’t even noticed that I started to hunch over and whisper. 

“He said to me, and I’m not kidding, ‘Ma’am, you forgot to put a piece of yourself on my plate. You look like the best tasting pie in the whole county.”

“There’s no way my father said that.”

“I’m not lying! I went on a date with him because of that.”

“I think that’s the worse part!” Sam laughed. 

“Anyway, John told me how he enlisted and was going to fight for our country. War worried me. The violence it brewed was horrid. There was no swaying him. He said he’d rather spend the next three weeks with a beautiful woman.” I glanced up at Sam; he was pretending to gag himself. “So that’s what he did.

“I’m not going into major details, but I will say… when I was human, women were not as promiscuous as they are in this time.” I cleared my throat. I had no clue why I was telling him this part. I just couldn’t stop. “John Winchester was my first.”

“Your… first?” Sam was questioning the use of the word, although I'm sure he knew what I meant. _Why is he asking more? I thought he’d get that statement_.

“Yes, my first… everything.”

Sam stared blankly at me. “Ok…,” he said. Then I could see the exact moments my words clicked. “Ooooh. Ok.”

“As I was saying, I spent those three weeks with him. I taught him to cook some and he taught me to do some simple car work. He even said that he could see doing this forever. Despite this, he was still convinced serving the country was more important, even if it left his partner-in-crime behind. 

“So, the demon side of me was elated to watch him board a bus that would carry him off to his death. Good riddance! But, the humanity that was sparked in me was devastated. I couldn’t stay in Lawrence much longer.”

“That’s why you weren’t there when he returned?” Sam questioned. “He met my mom when he came back.”

“Your mom is from Lawrence too? That’s cute! Hometown sweeties!” I exclaimed. Sam didn’t seem too interested in discussing this further. He had gone back to staring at the table top. 

“My mom was from Lawrence,” he said in a hushed tone. From his mannerisms, I picked up that his mom was not up for discussion. I had to push down the curiosity that was rising in my throat. I wanted to know about the woman John ended up with. I burned with questions. But, for some reason, Sam’s comfort was more important at the moment. 

“We don’t have to talk about that,” I commented, reaching across the table for his hands. When Sam saw what I was aiming for, he pulled away quickly and cleared his throat. 

“I should go…” he began, shifting his eyes around the coffee shop. “I shouldn’t be here with you.” 

Hurt, I answered him in silence. 

“It’s not that you’re not cool, or nice, or pretty,” he said, whispering the ending. I could feel the warmth swelling in my cheeks. Sam Winchester is only the second person to make me blush. 

_There is something seriously wrong with me_ , I thought. _Stop crushing on a hunter. A hunter who is John’s son! There is no honor in this._ Sam cleared his throat again, jarring me out of my thoughts. 

“So… I’ll see you around,” Sam said. “Or not.”

“Yeah… or not.”

“That’d probably be for the best. My father comes to see me often. I’d hate to have him see you around with me.” I knew this wasn’t true; Sam’s heart rate elevated slightly at the mention of his father visiting. _Why are you lying, Sam?_

“If that’s what you want,” I said dryly. I was a little disappointed in his desire to stay away from me. Were these weird butterflies one-sided? _This is what I get for telling the truth. Gabe told me this would happen._

Sam got up from the table, not even sparing me a second glance, and walked out of the shop. I watched him leave and heaved a sigh when he was out of view. This was not what I expected to happened, but then again, I didn’t really any reason to think otherwise. I just admitted to a hunter that I was a demon. This reaction was better than him shooting me… or worse, exorcising. I shuttered at the idea.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3

I left the shop, leaving behind a watered down coffee and went back to my dorm room. I figured now was a good time to do a little research on the Winchesters. There was a story that I didn’t know. 

The first link to pop up had the headline ‘House fire kills one, displaces 3’.

_November 3, 1983_

_Tragedy has struck a family in Lawrence late last night. Fire coursed through the two-story home of John and Mary Winchester, leaving the family mourning one. Mary, 28, lost her life to the fire. She is survived by her husband, John, 29, and their two sons._

_Authorities are searching for the origin of the fire, but at the time the cause is unknown. It is thought that faulty electrical wires may be to blame._

_Service will be on Sunday at the Lawrence Memorial Home at 11a.m._

I pounded the desk with my fist in anger and ripped the plug from the monitor. I couldn’t stand to see the picture of the then happy family. Mary Winchester, or I had known her, Mary Campbell. How did John end marrying a hunter’s kid? Did he know this? No one in Lawrence really wanted to talk about the Campbell family, almost out of fear. There were rumors and with every rumor, there’s a hint of truth. They are one of the many reasons I left Lawrence, and by default, John, behind. 

I picked up the phone and dialed the only number that came to mind. 

“What’s going on, hot stuff?” the voice answered. 

“Gabe, I think I messed up,” I whined. 

“Sweet heart, unless you have been sent back to Hell, there is no mistake I can’t help you fix,” Gabe said. Almost instantly, I felt better. _He’s right!_

My relationship with Gabriel grew from discovery. 

In 1985, I had been visiting a small town in Colorado, when I heard of these strange and mysterious deaths occurring nearby. When I got there, the death toll had hit seven, and the whole town was in frenzy. After some research, I found it odd that most of the deaths appeared to be either an urban legend or just plain silly. 

When the eighth death happened, I rushed to the crime scene (if you could even call it that) to take a look. The victim, a fraternity brother of the nearby college, had ingested pop rocks and soda. The result of the action was that his stomach exploded. The police bordering the scene, talked in loud voices, not bothering to conceal their puzzlement. 

“I don’t see how this would kill someone,” one officer said. “I’ve done that mixture plenty of times, and I’m still standing.”

“Eh, the coroner thinks that maybe he took something else on top of the rocks,” the second officer commented. 

“Like what, dynamite?” They both laughed. I didn’t see how this was anything to laugh at. That poor kid was dead. 

There was a man standing next me shaking his head at the cops. 

“Some men have no decency,” he whispered to me. I nodded in response, maintaining my watch on the body. It was now being lifted onto a gurney. “They should watch who hears their banter. Maybe they could be next.” 

I stiffened at the last part and turned my head toward the stranger. I had to throw a hand over my mouth in order to keep a scream from escaping. The man was the same height as me, with sandy blonde hair and the smirk he was wearing could have been considered as deadly. But there was also a blinding light surrounding his entire body, obscuring his face. I’d never encountered this before. 

“Your reaction to me is a bit rude,” he said calmly. “You don’t see me gasping in fright of your horns, do you?” 

I did the only thing my brain would allow, run. I took off down the alley to my left, probably drawing some unwanted attention to myself. I made it a few blocks before I dared stop. 

_I need to run more_ , I thought to myself, as a bending over huffing for air. _A demon should be fine to run distances._ This is pathetic. I stood up, clutching my side, and yelped. The man was standing directly in front of me, wearing an annoyed expressions. 

“You must be new around here, sweetheart,” the man claimed. I choose not to respond. He draped an arm around my shoulder and held tight in case I tried to jerk away. (I did… try.)

“Let go of me!” I cried out, struggling a little harder against him. _What is this guy? How is he stronger than me?_

“I think you need to calm down,” he whispered. Then, just like that, I feel more relaxed. I felt like I should be humming and praising world peace. “There that’s better.” He let me go. 

“What did you just do to me?” I said evenly, rubbing my arm. 

“Just a little mojo magic, Angel,” he replied. I could feel my eyes go wide. _Did he purposely pick that nickname? Coincidence._

“I don’t believe in coincidences.” He raised his eyebrows. “You think you’re the only person around some deep dark secret?” 

The man grabbed my shoulders and turned me away from him. Resting his chin on my shoulder, he whispered in my ear, “Until we meet again… stay out of trouble.”

And I did. That was until I saw John. And then I saw Sam. 

“Well, I ran into a Winchester on campus,” I explained, trying not to let my voice crack. 

“That old, chunky one? Fuck ‘em, princess. You have better things to concern yourself with. I thought we went over this already,” Gabriel said, appearing at my side. He didn’t need to say anything else before I was swept up in an overbearing hug. Petting my hair, he continued, “There’s no way those… hunters, can do anything to you.”

I pulled away. “How do you know that? We know what John is looking for. I think he’ll find away to kill Azazel, and then he is going to go after every demon.”

“But not you.” Resting a hand on my cheek, he smiled. “Not you.” I sighed deeply. 

“It wasn’t John I saw, Gabe. It was the youngest son. He goes to school here.” 

“So? That giant, puppy dog? Didn’t he put himself between you and a bullet?” Gabe took a few steps away from me and started fiddling with my dorm mate’s stuff. It made me twinge; she liked everything in a specific spot. “If that ginormo tried to hurt you, I’ll find a way to punish him.”

“Nah, don’t answer violence with violence. Leave Sam alone.”

“Aw, babycakes. It’s Sam now? What happened to the ‘youngest Winchester’? First name basis now?” Gabe mocked me. 

“I can tell you’re making fun of me and it’s not helping.” I sat down on my bed and leaned against the concrete wall. Drawing my knees to my chest, I rested my face on them. Suddenly, a pillow hits my face. “What the fuck?!” I cried out in anger. 

“You are probably the most angst-ridden demon in existence. You need to just forget about that old Winchester, and dive into the new one.” Gabe paused to make eye contact. “Or have him dive into you.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re a prude, girlfriend,” he said. “Maybe that’s your whole issue. You just need to get some.”

“Aren’t angels supposed to be chaste and shit?” I asked him. 

Gabriel gave me a hard look. We had discussed not to use the “a-word” in earnest, or at least towards him. I pursed my lips and awaiting his answer. 

“No. Not necessarily,” he said, eyes narrowing. He jumped up slightly and shouted, “Hey! Where do you keep your Twizzlers?” I rolled my eyes and reach under my pillow to obtain the candy. Throwing it to him, he gleamed with excitement. “I think you should go for… what’d you call him… Sam?”


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4

Gabriel words felt like a ball of pressure in my chest. I should just block the Winchester out of my mind and finish my school work. Stanford is a large campus and it took months to run into Sam the first time. Maybe I can avoid him; he made it clear he’d like to avoid me. Complicated. Fun. Besides, I have better things to focus on. This time around I was majoring in Modern Art.

I flattened out my blanket under a shady tree in the quad. Determined to ace the mid-terms, I opened up a few text books and laid them out before me. And then I stared at them… for ten minutes. _I guess I’m not really as determined as I want to be_ , I thought, slamming all of them shut. _Who am I kidding? I don’t need to study. It’s not like I didn’t live through most of it._

I fell backwards on the blanket, folding my arms beneath my head. The sky was clear, not a cloud to ruin the warmth of the sun peeking through the tree. I hummed to myself in delight and closed my eyes.

After a few minutes, the heat from the sun disappeared. I opened one eye to see who was being a jerk and blocking my natural heater. The handsome face of Sam Winchester was looming above me. I groaned.

“Do you mind?” I exclaimed. Sam responded with a smile. Sighing, I propped myself up on my elbows and glared. “Can I help you with something?” There was probably no mistaking the venom in my voice. The ending of our last conversation had left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“I see you’re taking art history classes,” he said, plopping down beside me. Sam held up a book of his own; the cover matched one of mine. _God, his smile is infectious._

Trying to hold in my anger, I simply raised my eyebrows, as to say ‘So?’

“I, uh, I was wondering if, um, you’d wanna study together?” he continue, rushing his words together.

“Um, no,” I replied, not even pausing to consider it. His smile widened.

“What, are you nervous about something?” My stomach did little flips, remembering I said something very similar a week ago. “It’s just studying.”

I sat up and huffed in annoyance. Shoveling my books into my bag, I said, “I think you’re forgetting that you told me to stay away from you. Something like, it’s for the best blah blah blah. You know, I find you irritating.” I zipped up my bag and got to my feet.

“I think we need a do-over. I’m pretty sure I gave the wrong impression,” Sam said.

“And I think you need to get off my blanket,” I said sternly, slinging my bag over my shoulder. _I really need to get out of here_. I bent over and tried tugging the corner of the blanket, hoping I was getting my point across. Instead of getting his hunky ass off my stuff, Sam held out his hand to me.

“Hi, I’m Sam Winchester,” he said.

“Argh!” I cried out, ignoring his extended arm. Using the demonic strength I keep hidden, I pulled the blanket out from under him. Sam fell back slightly.

“Hey! Come on, I’m trying to make nice.”

“Sam, I’m over this.”

“It doesn’t look like you are,” he said. I turned to walk away but Sam grabbed my wrist to keep me still. What I should have done was break his wrist and give him a new reason to stay away from me. But of course, being the genius I am, I merely sighed and sat back down.

“Why do you want to start over? A demon and a hunter aren’t exactly B-F-F material.”

“Ex-hunter,” he murmured.

“What was that?” I asked.

“I said ex-hunter. I don’t identify with that anymore. I’m just a pre-law freshman. No different than any of the chums on this quad.” He motioned to the other students surrounding us. “And I want to get to know the pretty girl with the art books.” He beamed at me. Butterflies.

“Sam…” I began.

“Look, I know what you’re going to say,” he continued. “Sammm, what about your daddy?” He mimicked me by raising his voice an octave.

“Not exactly,” I replied, rolling my eyes “Maybe I just don’t like you.”

Sam’s eyes locked on to mine, and we shared a moment of silence. Finally, I broke the connection and began staring at the sky again. I could feel the blush working its way from my neck to my face.

“I think you’re a liar,” he muttered. “Fine.” Sam heaved himself to his feet and looked down at me. I didn’t dare say anything.

“I thought we could talk, we probably have a lot in common,” he began again, clearing his throat. “It’d be nice to be able to be myself around someone and not lie about my childhood. I’m sure you feel very similar.”

“Sam,” I said, trying to cut in. He held up a hand.

“No, let me finish.” I nodded. “Most people at this school came from a very different household from me. They had real houses and went to one school, and didn’t get labeled a freak everywhere they went. It sometimes makes it hard to meet new people. I was hoping you could be a friend.”

“Sam,” I tried again, slightly annoyed at this point.

“I’m not done!” he snarled. “I know I messed up last week. I’ll be the first to admit I freaked out. All I really know about demons is:  one, they’re hard to kill, and two, one killed my mother. Finding out that I was sitting across a table from one, fantasizing about kissing her, threw me off and—“ I cut him off by swinging my book bag at him.

“Sam Winchester, you’re infuriating!” I yelled. He looked shock at my attack. I was breathing hard from anger. Some of the people around stopped their conversations and placed their focus on drama. “You can’t just go around hurting people’s feelings and then admit to wanting them. That’s not normal.” Sam leaned in closer to me, our faces inches apart.

“Neither of us is exactly normal,” he whispered. The air surrounding us felt electric.

“I…” I started. I didn’t have a chance to compose more than that because Sam took my face into his hands and pulled me into a ferocious kiss. Every muscle in my body tensed up from the action. I’m sure Sam felt my hesitation, but he didn’t let go. Within seconds, I was leaning in more, deepening the kiss. I could feel the smile on his lips.

When we parted, I reached up and laid a slap across his cheek. I didn’t hold back any strength. The red welt was already forming and he was clearly stunned. When he reached up to touch his cheek, I pulled him back into another kiss, falling forward so I was basically on top of him. Sam wrapped his arms around me, holding me against him tighter. Together, we rolled so my back was on the grass. Once again, Sam’s face was looming above me, grinning so hard that it practically spanned from ear to ear.

Brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes, he said, “Is this a yes to helping me study? I really suck at art history.”

And we both began to laugh.


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5: Gabriel to the rescue? I don't know... I can't do summaries. 
> 
> (I will say... this was suppose to end at part 5, but i needed an extra bridge)

I didn’t really understand Sam Winchester. I mean, I did, but I didn’t. There is a lot more to him than his bulky arms and nice hair. Deep inside, he yearned to be normal, just like me. Yet, this was a constant obstacle for us. Argument after argument, fist fight after fist fight, we parted ways. And that was it.

I was okay with this… mostly. At first, my heart ached a lot. I felt like another chuck had been ripped from the small amount of soul I had left. It was John all over again. The truth is, Sam is not his father. It was a standard I unfairly placed on him and I wish I could take it back. And now I don’t have either of them. That hurts more.

“I don’t know why you’re still pining over the beefcake,” Gabriel said, shoveling a piece of cake into his mouth. I pushed around the leftover frosting from my piece with my fork and sighed. “Didn’t you tell me your breakup was mutual?” 

Gabe had come to visit me and taste the cake from the bakery on campus. Any promise of sugar is a sure fire way to bring him to my side. In a matter of minutes, he had taken my un-showered, self-loathing ass and put together, decent looking person he could be seen in public with. I still decided to wear my sweatpants though, albeit clean ones.

“It _was_ ,” I responded, dropping my fork onto the plate. “It takes more time to get over people than I thought.”

“Well, you need to pull yourself together, Sweetheart. This is getting very pathetic.”

Sighing, “I’m acutely aware of the situation.”

Sucking air through his teeth, Gabe said, “Get it together fast cinna-buns, because I see Mr. Hunk over there… With his arm around a pretty little blond.” Gabe aimed his fork behind me and gestured with his head. My mind wanted to see, but my heart cried out in anguish.

“You don’t need to rub it in more,” I said bitterly.

“Too bad. He has spotted you.”

“Fuck!” I muttered, probably a tad too loud. I turned my head to see a smiling Sam and his lady friend approaching our table. The blond stood at the same height as me, but her features were the exactly opposite. Her golden hair was perfect and wavy (while mine was black and straight), her skin glowed with a California tan (my obviously didn’t) and those eyes…. Way more welcoming than my own.

“Hey there,” Sam said brightly as he neared our table. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“It’s really not,” Gabriel commented. I kicked him under the table.

“Hi Sam,” I replied, hopefully sounding cool and perfectly okay with this. The woman smiled at Gabe and me.

“I’m Jessica,” she said, extending a hand out to me. “I’ve heard a lot about you and it’s a pleasure.”

I looked at her hand and brought my eyes to meet Sam’s. I raised my eyebrows and he responded with a shrug. I honestly didn’t like her; not one bit. Nice people upset me. My mind was starting to play a string of unfortunate accidents in which _Jessica_ perishes. Gabriel cleared his throat, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” I said through my teeth, finally taking her hand. She had a firm hand shake. _Probably to claim ownership over her man_ , I thought. I squeezed back and silently laughed as she winced. This time, Gabe kicked me. “And this is my friend…. George.” Jessica reached over to shake his hand as well.

That was when I saw Sam staring at me. He was tense and uncomfortable; he had white knuckle fisted at his side. I gazed back at him while our friends discussed Stanford. Intensity brewed and I almost felt like lightening was going to start at any moment. My stomach began to churn from the anxiousness I was feeling. This situation isn’t right.

“Sam, can I speak with you?” I asked abruptly, standing up. Gabe and Jessica ceased their chatter immediately and both started looking back and forth between Sam and me. “Alone.” I didn’t think it was possible, but Sam tensed even more.

“Sure.”

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Gabe and grabbed my bag from the chair back. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Gabriel gave me a salute and winked. He then motioned for Jessica to sit in my vacated chair. “Why don’t you get comfy, princess?” I repressed a growl.

Sam was waiting for me in the hallway just outside the cafeteria. He was rubbing his face with both hands, as if he could rub off his nervousness. When he saw me approaching, he ran his hands through his hair and let out a breath.

“Why did you feel the need to come talk to me?” I asked, not removing the venom from my tone.

“Because we agreed to be friends…?” Sam looked genuinely confused by my anger. “Look, I’m sorry that I clearly ruined your date,” he spat at me, embracing the desire to release his feelings too.

“I’m not on a date; George is a friend,” I said. I began poking his chest with my finger. “You, on the other hand, have something wrong with your brain if you think it’s okay to go say ‘hi’ to an ex, with your current squeeze.”

“I…”

“Who does that?” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. “Crazy people.”

“And accosting someone in a hallway isn’t?” he accused, apparently fed up with this. “I don’t understand you. You told me you were unhappy, so we parted. You told me you wanted that, so I agreed. This,” he continued, pointing back and forth between us quickly. “Us. That was my plan. You were my plan.”

I sucked in a breath. All I could do was purse my lips and hold it. There was a growing pain in my chest and not speaking felt like the only way to contain it. I was holding back tears.

“So, you honestly have no right to bitch to me. _This_ is what _you_ wanted. Not me.” Sam was breathing hard with anger. “After six months, _six months_ , I wanted you to stay forever.”

“This is not what I –“

“Stop! Stop trying to convince me you’re anything but…” he paused, thinking of a good word. “Evil.”

“Sam, that—“ I couldn’t breathe, which is curious, because I didn’t need to breathe to begin with. My heart felt like someone had taken a hold of it and was squeezing. I clutched at my chest. “I’m… not… evil,” I huffed out.

“You’re the post child of it, hun. I’m pretty sure that’s included in the definition of ‘demon,’” Sam sneered.

That was all I needed to break. The levy restraining my tears was severely breached, and before I wipe away one, my cheeks were damp. I started to hyperventilate. Sam gave me a hard expression and took a step away. I had to reach out and steady myself on the wall.

And he just stood there and watched.

Finally, I felt a hand slide around my shoulder and I was being pulled into someone’s arms.

“Shhh,” Gabe whispered into my hair. I could feel his breath on my head and his warm hands rubbing my back. Gabe lifted his chin off of me, and said angrily, “I always thought you were the nice one.”

I peeked out from my shelter of Gabriel’s jacket, and saw Sam’s expression soften a bit. He looked so… wounded. I tried to push Gabe away from me so I could see Sam better, but he just tightened his grip.

“Why don’t you take your pretty plaything and leave?” I could feel the air thicken with hostility. _Oh no, what have I’ve done?_ I thought. _I just made Sam an enemy in Gabriel’s eyes._

I let Gabriel guild me out of the hallway and back to my room. We didn’t exchange a word the way, and I barely even looked at where I placing my feet. He kept an arm around me the entire time, almost like a guardian angel. _He is mine_ , I thought, slightly startled by the revelation. When we reached my door, Gabe used his mojo to will the lock open and we stumbled in awkwardly.

Frantically, I ran my hands through my hair and sat down the middle of the room. Gabe squatted in front of me and grabbed my cheeks to steady my face.

“No more crying over him,” he said bluntly. “I need you to go back to your original thoughts on the Winchesters, and _stay_ the _hell_ away from them.” I nodded, staring into his eyes. “Leave Stanford before something horrible happens. You should have left weeks ago. Hell, I should have told you to leave when you ran into him. Instead, I encouraged it. _Fuck_ ,” he exclaiming, releasing me and standing up.

“Are you leaving?” I asked quietly. He gazed down at me with a pitiful expression and extended an arm to me. I graciously accepted and got to my feet.

“No, Sweetheart, _we_ are leaving.”

And he leaned in and kissed my forehead.


End file.
